I didn't have the heart to tell anyone we couldn't eat.
Three days since Todd’s arrest, and the ranch had settled into a strange new rhythm. Quieter than before, but not the empty quiet I used to dread. This was the quiet of people healing. Of a house full of breath and heartbeat and the small sounds of three people learning to feel safe again.
Mia slept between us every night because she was scared of being alone. Of waking up in the dark and not knowing where we were. Of the door opening and someone taking her again.
I understood.
I’d been reaching for Riley in my sleep too, pulling her close, checking the bandage on her shoulder like it might have reopened in the night.
We were all jumpy. Flinching at car doors and phone notifications and shadows that moved wrong. But we were together.
That counted for something.
I was in the barn on the third morning, measuring out grain for the horses, when I heard footsteps behind me. Mia appeared in the doorway, still in her pajamas, hair tangled from sleep.
“Hey, bug.” I set down the scoop. “You’re up early.”
She shrugged, wandering over to Honey’s stall. The mare nickered softly, pressing her nose against the bars, and Mia reached up to scratch her forehead.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t look at me when she said it. Kept her fingers moving in Honey’s mane, slow and careful, like she was bracing for the answer.
The question caught me off guard. “Me? I’m fine.”
“You’ve been weird.” She still didn’t look at me. “Like you’re walking on eggshells or something. Around me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Riley told me,” Mia continued. “That you think I’m scared of you. Because of what happened in the clearing.”
I leaned against the stall door, studying her profile. Twelve years old. And here she was, checking on me.
I watched her for a moment before speaking.
“Are you?” A pause. “Scared of me?”
She finally turned to look at me. Her dark eyes were serious—but not afraid. Not even a little.
The knot I’d been carrying since the clearing tightened anyway, like my body hadn’t gotten the message yet.
“No.” She delivered it like it was obvious. Like I was being ridiculous. “Todd was the scary one. You’re just Liam.”
“I hurt him pretty badly, Mia. You saw?—”
“I saw you save Riley’s life.” She cut me off, firm in that way she got when she’d made up her mind about something. “I saw you stop him from killing her. That’s what I saw.”
I didn’t have words.
She crossed the barn and hugged me, her arms wrapping around my waist, her head against my chest. I hugged her back carefully, like she might break.
But she wasn’t breaking.
She was solid and certain and so much stronger than I’d given her credit for.
She pulled back, already scanning the stall.
“Can I help feed Honey?”
